


go back to bed

by xy_lasszxy



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xy_lasszxy/pseuds/xy_lasszxy
Summary: Iron Bull has made it his personal duty to see to it that The Inquisitor is rested back to heath after he comes down with a cold in Orlais.  He wants nothing but Lavellan to stay in bed, however, Lavellan wants anything but.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Synopsis and AU: Hi! I didn’t know how to introduce myself. But I’m an Iron Bull whore, so: I figured why not start there? It takes a while for my creative juices to flow, enlighten me with your thoughts! What should I write about next? What fandom should I latch to and feed on? Thanks !

There were some smiles, some frowns of confusion—and some other facial features just frozen in awe. There was no use hiding by now, the bards and heralds had already began scribbling their notes now, making note of the shame and impatience he had tried to hide. He pinched the bridge his nose, the sigh escaping through flared nostrils—well, whatever remnants of the sigh that could actually travel through his pinkened nose. This was ridiculous. A grown man, a rogue of wit and power, being carried on the shoulder of a Qunari as if some brat-like da’len. He hated when Bull rubbed his back like that—something about it seemed intentionally condescending, like Bull’s way of laughing when he knew he couldn’t. There hadn’t been any need to with the whole damn court laughing at you. But he did so anyways, in a loving, nurturing way—a way that Lavellan was too embarrassed to admit was actually tranquilizing and pacifying.  
He ran his fingers through the red locks of his hair, the color as red as his cheeks as he managed to make eye contact with Varric, who seemed to be enjoying the moment, polishing Bianca simultaneously while shaking his head in a satisfying laugh. Not even the court jester looked as ridiculous as he did in the moment.  
“Bull, I can walk by myself.”  
“You were out of breath before you could even hit the barracks.”  
“Stop treating me like a child.”  
He laughed one of his big hearty laughs, “Stop making me treat you like one.” 

If he had counted the amount of failed attempts trying to escape this fortresses’ walls, it would put his ancestors to shame. He tried to be smart about it this time, he was quiet, and stealthy, so much so that not even Leiliana could see him, or rather—she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge him. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as stealthy as he wanted, but he was almost there. It hadn’t been like the first time, where he ran into Krem in the tavern after trying to drink a bottle of mead: 

“Here you go, Inquisitor.”  
“Please—I’m not supposed to be here.” His whisper was low and distinct.  
“Oh!” The bartender’s tone didn’t match. “Okay, Inquisitor!”

He hadn’t been dressed usually as he had been, a blanket wrapped around his frame as it had been a robe, his face buried by the homemade hood of the fabric, body wrapped slim underneath it. He nearly fainted when Krem sat himself in the stool next to him. “Two pints, please.”  
“You got it, Krem.”  
“Thanks—appreciate it.” 

He was drumming his fingers patiently; awkwardly—occasionally looking over to his right; how Lavellan turned his head so quickly. When he could feel Krem’s eyes on his frame, he began to speak, lower than what already his voice had been.  
“You’re getting a pint?”  
“Yeah—me and my boys just finished being in Orlais.”  
“Orlais?”  
“Yeah—there was some unfinished business there with a merchant who had reached out to the Inquisitor about losing his business. You know how that usually goes---just some stuff-shirt wringing out those below him for some coin. I saw it all the time in Tevinter.” 

He could feel his eyes scrolling down his frame, watch his eyebrows furrowing with a questioning wonder. Lavellan cleared his throat.  
“Tevinter, huh?”  
“Forgive me for my inquiring, but uh…you seem familiar.”  
“Hmm?”  
Have we met before?”  
“Who? We?”  
“Yeah.”  
“No, no we haven’t.”  
“I mean, but you sound…. Inquisit— “ 

The bartender returned, gracing the two pints and mead down, tapping one hand friendly and warm to Krem.  
“Enjoy your drink, ser.” 

Lavellan sighed relieved, If I don’t owe this man…. The bartender eased down gently to Lavellan, too kind to see the subtle shaking of his head and ‘whispered’, “Drink up, Inquisitor. Thanks for stopping by.”

Finally Krem spoke aloud. “Inquisitor?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Are you supposed to be out here?” 

Krem hadn’t lasted two seconds before telling Bull, who of course slung Lavellan’s Dalish ass back to his quarters. Nor had it been like the second time, where he had called to Sera in the dead of night for a game of hide-and-seek. Little had Sera known that hide-and-seek was a means to get him to the gate, but it wasn’t too late when they found Krem and the Chargers near the gate—Krem then greeted him, called Bull, and was, of course, dragged back to his quarters once again.  
This time, this time was brilliant. This time was meticulously planned and sure to work—except the bedsheets could only reach so far; he climbed until he was near Vivienne—who was amid talking to Krem, who yet again called Bull, and then—well, I guess that part was obvious.  
  
But to the court, it had become a game by now. They groaned in sympathy each time the two were travelling through now, and some of the nobles snuck a ‘better luck next time’ blink of an eye. When they finally were up the stairs and in the Inquisitor’s quarters, Lavellan climbed down in a child-like tantrum, closing the door and walking over to his bed, the much smaller man crossing his arms over his chest impatiently and huffing as much breath as he could through his sinuses.  
“You’re going to have to get better, kadan.”  
“You’re not going to let up, are you?”  
“Well, this is our second time together—“  
“—Third.”  
“Third time?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then probably not, no.” 

Lavellan sniffled the hint of snot back up into himself before clearing his throat.  
“Look at you. Your sinuses haven’t even cleared”  
“I need to be out there, Bull. The people need me. “

Bull sighed simple through his nose, walking over to the windows of the room, closing them simply and staring out each one for a brief amount of time before moving to the next.  
“When the world was against us, you gave it time…” He closed the last window, turning around to look Lavellan in the eye. “Now it’s the world’s turn to give you time. Anyone who has a problem with that can kiss my fat, hairy Qunari balls.”  
“Okay. When do you want me to? I can— “Lavellan’s smart remark was interrupted by an explosion of coughs, he with his face buried inside of his elbow. He hadn’t even needed to look up to see Bull’s I told you so smirk. He sat on the bed next to the Inquisitor, observing silently. Lavellan looked like the amount of effort he had put into his failed attempts; Hair was splayed out as if some intricate art piece, he wiped at his pinkened nose and cheeks with the snot-stained sleeve of his bed-written outfit, the collar and chest covered in the faded phlegm stains from earlier within the day; his ankles swollen and with the look of lumps within the sheets. Bull reached for the shirt.  
“Boss, your shirt’s a mess— “  
“—Can I dress myself, Bull? Please?’ 

Lavellan hoped from out of bed, limping to his armoire and taking out a shirt in the same style as this one, just clean. Too bad his pride was as malicious as this cold was, or, whatever it had been. He plopped back onto the bed, his breathing short and ending in long-winded wheezes.  
“Don’t take this to heart Boss, but you look like shit. Just get better, kadan. We’ll be kicking ass again before you know it.”  
Shit. He felt defeated, helpless. Lavellan sighed simply, holding the bridge of his nose before speaking sweetly.  
“I appreciate the gesture, Bull. But there’s too much to be done—“  
“—We’re assigning people now. “  
“We?”  
“Yeah, Cullen, Lelianna, Josephine—Varric is going to be taking your place for now.”  
“Oh God….”  
“And before you freak, I asked for Cassandra to accompany him.”  
“Cassandra? They’ll kill each other before the week’s out.”  
“Yeah” His laugh filled the room in a splendor, ending with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah…” 

Bull placed a hand on Lavellan’s chest, easing him down recumbent. He fluffed the pillows; raised the covers so they just met Lavellan’s waist, and had reached underneath them to massage his ankles, how he felt the love in each stroke, Bull catching the half-full glass beside them on the nightstand.  
“You haven’t finished your Asala Maraas-Lok”  
“It tastes like urine, and makes my insides burn.”  
“That means it’s working.” He reached over with a hand to the bottom of the mug, sighing simply. “You should have drank it while it was hot, cold, all it is—is piss.” 

He picked up the glass, careful as to not spill it, he handed it to Lavellan. 

“—No, no. No need for that thank you— “  
“—Here Boss. Finish it.”  
“No, please— “  
“For me?” 

For him? The answer was never no. It was always the delicate yet intimidating stare that got him, and if Bull were anyone else…. He grabbed Lavellan’s shoulders, rubbing them in a supporting touch. The Asala Maraas-Lok was something Bull explained ‘a killer of all sicknesses’; as his mother made it for him when he was younger. Though he refused to share its ingredients, he assured Lavellan that it was something that would make the cold go away, and it wouldn’t have been hard to drink if it weren’t for it’s strong, piscine smell. It was an amberish-gold color, with the appearance of beer though it had been warmed—which only made the smell stronger.  
“Hold your nostrils, it’s really fucking nasty cold.” 

Cold, though the piscine color had weakened, the drink itself had solidified, the color of lard in a cold kettle, and though it was still in a drinkable consistency, some of it had already jellified and coated the edge of the glass—something horrific to even lay eyes upon. Lavellan, however, held his nostrils and began to chug, some of the chunks landing on his shirt, the alcohol itself burning even still, odorous even despite clenching his nose. It slid like a drunken slug down his throat, splashing and collecting against the walls of his stomach, leaving him in shudders. His mouth quivered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Goosebumps had broken out all over his skin, Bull letting out a calm, sympathetic laugh. His clasps were like thunder reciprocating from off the walls, his muscles tensing with the laughter. He slapped his knee and laughed at Lavellan’s pitiful frown of disgust. As he heaved, Bull let out his hand to receive Lavellan’s incoming phlegm lovingly.  
“Oh God…”  
“It’ll definitely get the mucus out.”  
“Sorry…”  
“Ey Boss, better out than in, right? That’s good. I’ll bring up another tonight…. Listen kadan….”  
He let out a sigh, placing his clean hand on Lavellan’s shoulder lovingly. Rubbing along his shoulder and neck, his touch cooling and mesmerizing.  
“You created all this; it might’ve taken a few extra hands, but you are the reason why we’re all not dead now. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”  
“Bull— “  
“I am proud of you.” There was a short moment of silence. “We all are. You should be if you aren’t. I get it—the same way you feel about us is the same way, well… the same way that I feel about my men. But give this Inquisitor shit up until you’re at least not coughing out your lungs, Okay?”  
The knock on the door left the Inquisitor in shivers, its abruptness alarming and unexpected. Finally, after a moment of catching his breath, and a few knocks, he called out.  
“Come in “ 

Krem stuck his head from out behind the door, the red shaven hair obviously not groomed this morning—as if he had scratched his head and forgot to put the locks back in their place. He laughed shortly through his nose, his arms confident on his hips.  
“Well, I see the Inquisitor is in good hands. I just came to make sure he wasn’t trying to climb out windows again.” His accent was loving and sloppy, a nice fit to the pretty boy’s face; complimenting his sharp jaw and youthful appearance.  
“I guess he was just going out for some fresh air is all,” Krem teased respectfully, brushing his eyebrows back and sighing.  
“Right, right.” Bull and Krem exchanged proud smiles. He turned back to see Lavellan, rubbing his back lovingly. Krem interluded.  
“Hey Boss—Some of us were going to celebrate Stitches’ birthday. Wanted to know if you could make it?” 

He could hear his answer now already upon his lips; his voice travelling through his head with, “You all have fun. I’ll be making sure he gets better.” 

Lavellan sure appreciated the thought, but never would he want to keep Bull inside as if he were some house pet, he spoke up before Bull could, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it lightly. “Go. I’m stuck here, but doesn’t mean you have to be.”  
He tilted one of his horns to the side in thought. “Eh…. You’re sure Boss?”  
Lavellan smiled weakly. “Yes I’m sure. I’ll see you later on tonight.” 

Bull looked up at Krem and nodded affirmingly,” I’ll go for a little while. Tell Stitches I don’t intend to stay though.” He looked back down and smiled. “Alright kadan”  
Lavellan yelped as the Qunari arms swept him up in their hold, how Bull pressed his lips to his, the two embracing each other’s love until Lavellan had no choice but to break it apart.  
“Not too long or I’ll get you sick.”  
Bull laughed, holding Lavellan’s chin and placing more kisses to his skin, pressing his forehead to his.  
“That just means being next to you. I’ll see you, Boss.” 

He placed him back into bed, tucking him well underneath hot covers. Lavellan could feel his hand wrapping around the hem of the blanket.  
“See you—have fun.”  
“Right. Hey— “His finger pointed sternly. “Stay in bed.”  
Bull turned towards Krem, placing the phlegm into his hands in one smooth swipe.  
“Krem—take care of that for me, will you?”  
“What the—EW! You Qunari bastard!”  
He roared in laughter over the sound of Krem’s panic and disgust, running the clean and through his hair playfully as they left the Inquisitor’s quarters. 

 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

Being in bed reminded Lavellan of the Canyon again—how he was hot, discomforted with the sand somehow sneaking past his armor and into his clothes, how he never seemed to stop sweating. It was no different. Fenedhis! He had been staring up at the wall for at least three fucking hours already. He would have already moved, but the sweat pinned him to the sheets. So, he laid there, helpless, stuck in a pool of his own desperation and sweat. He was sure to go insane like this. Please, there would be one of his gods within the Pantheon to take pity—  
“Inquisitor?”  
What a familiar voice of golden honey and chamomile, how he looked to see her red hair, how it looked underneath her hood.  
“Please come in, Leliana.”  
“I just thought I would come and check on you.”  
“Thank you.”  
She smiled gently, her hands occupied with a tray of food, of glasses, mead and just a bowl of ice and cloth laying besides it. She rolled up her sleeves, placing the tray out on the nightstand, collecting the empty glasses and soiled tissues before folding back her sleeves. She dipped her small hand within the bowl of ice water she carried, wringing out the cloth before folding it and placing it on his forehead. Her accent was always refreshing to hear; elegant, most recently serene and peaceful, as he heard it was before she became a spymaster. She placed her hand to his cheek, hissing at the heat that had washed over his flesh.  
“Maker’s breath! You’re burning up!”  
“That’s not the worst of it, unfortunately.”  
“Inquisitor…” She sympathized, pressing the cloth to his temples and jaw. Her smile returned, and she cleared her throat to say,” “It is known that you should sweat out the cold; that's what all the sisters told me when I became sick anyways. But when I was all alone, the Divine would come, and she’d press a cold cloth to me just like I am doing now, and whisper to me, what's the good in abiding all of the rules?”  
They exchanged smiles before Lavellan’s smile faded with the thought of Solas. “Any updates on Solas?”  
She shook her head stiffly; fragile as if Lavellan himself would break in two. He sighed in frustration, letting the back of his head sink into the pillows defeatedly.  
“There has been nothing. There are no notes, letters, any written documents whatsoever to even prove what his intentions were. As far as we are concerned, he just…”  
“..Vanished.” They changed the topic. “How is Varric? Anything I should know?”  
“He’s doing better than one would expect. He’s been planning seminars and meetings for you to attend once you’re in good health. Both Ferelden and Orlais are eager to meet the council that saved them—and of course the most recent Divine.”  
“Is Cassandra still present within Skyhold?”  
“She awaits to speak with you once you’re feeling better.”  
“I’ll talk to her at once.”  
“Inquisitor, I don’t think…”  
“I need to get up, Leliana. Anymore time here and I’ll melt into the bed.”  
“We’d have to continue business with you in a jar.”  
“Was there anyone outside of the door when you came in?”  
“Oh, yes. Two of the guards. They almost went pale when I asked them if I may enter. They're so scared of failing to protect the sacred Herald of Andraste. Good for me I was their superior, no?”  
“Leliana, please. I need some fresh air.”  
“And have to answer to your boyfriend, no?” She giggled, walking over to the windows and opening them, the cold air splashing against his skin. She looked back at him, smiling weakly before opening his armoire.

“What are you doing?”  
“Nothing! I am asking you why you think I would do that?” She placed pants on the table, winking simply before beginning to walk towards the bedroom door. “You have to get better, Inquisitor. You must stay in bed.” 

She rolled her hand, mouthing go along with it. He nodded, swallowing simply before projecting his voice. “Well, if you insist, Leliana. Leave me to rest.”  
“Yes, Inquisitor. I will return soon enough.” 

She strutted from out of the room, waving to Lavellan before sliding past the door, leaving Lavellan staring at the pair of pants on the desk. 

Cassandra mostly trained near the corner of the Skyhold premises; within the crevice of the barracks and the tavern, and stayed mostly where she could sharpen her blade or condition her arm in battle. Most recently, she had been busy being with her beginning training of being the new Divine, and hated every step of it from what she expressed—it wasn’t the actual role, nor even the learning to becoming the Divine, however it was the never-ending talk about it. She said it reminded her of being back into Nevarra—with the nobles around her, constantly watching her, her brother, her mother, befriending their father to only betray him with the exposing of his private life. The number of bards and book writers who came to try and discuss such matters with her now with her being in the start of her training was exhausting. Besides Cassandra being the new Divine—most importantly, she craved an escape as well—and that was something that the Inquisitor could not pass up.  
Quickly, he ripped the covers from off his dampened frame before rushing over to the pants, looking back at the door careful to not alarm the guards, struggling his ankles through the pants back against the floor and up his thighs. The strain alone threatened the sake of his throat, but there was nothing that would be sweeter than freedom, and the slight vengeance in Bull’s trying to keep him recumbent forever. When he couldn’t find his shoes, he cursed them and snatched the shirt by its hem down to his hips. Within moments, he had entered from out of the window and onto the balcony, onto the rooftops which covered his quarters and carefully towards the castle boarders. His next step would be to merely duck down, run through Cullen’s office—since he was surely to have been with Josephine about now—and work his way through the barracks door and out to where Cassandra was.  
Each step was like a hit to the stomach; already he had seemed to cough up most of his innards, but being out here in what seemed the coldest spring morning was not helping—he would have to make this quicker than he thought. His chest was burning, whether from the cough or the Asala Maraas-Lok he couldn’t tell, but either one was threatening to exit his body violently. This seemed to be the biggest tribulation at the moment; the small window of death which connected to the quarters—the ledge that was always tricky to climb up on, and evidently—something one would not have the option of failing. He looked down at his feet, positioning them. Looking at how far up he was, he could definitely feel that it was the Asala Maraas-Lok, and it was not having this ‘little adventure’. He could feel its gelatin-like form coming up, nearly losing his balance when he had to regurgitate it and swallow it back down, though some had escaped and placed itself on the corner of his lip. He shuddered wiping his face clean and listening to his stomach plea for help.  
Alright. He analyzed the ledge once more before taking a deep breath, lowering himself to regenerate power within his legs, and with one familiar leap of faith, grabbed onto the stone—his left middle finger barely on the ledge. Looking down was like an aerial labyrinth in which he was getting lost in; the harder he looked at the ground, the more accurately he could feel the ground beneath him, the feeling of broken bones—and that was no feeling that he wanted to be reacquainted with, less so than with Death—but nonetheless. He took another breath, ignoring the sweat which began to make his hand slip and grabbed at the ledge again, his right threatening to slip once more. With one more breath and massive swing, he practically slapped his arm against the ledge, clamping onto it and pulling himself up over the ledge and onto the cold stone ground, landing on his back with a hard thud. Due to the impact, the cough forced him onto his side, his jaw becoming sore as more mucus came up from his throat and onto the ground, the yellow of it sickening to look at. Being out here was turning this cold into something much more malicious. His time was fleeting.  
Lavellan climbed up from the ground, shaking himself off and running a hand through his dried-out hair, trying to breathe through his swollen sinuses before having to forcefully breath through his mouth, how dry and…admittedly rancid his breath had been. He couldn’t stand to swallow the now acidic saliva and spat it out with a new burning hatred for the fucking Asala Maraas-Lok. Fuck.  
The good thing was that the hardest part was over—after conquering the leap of death, the only thing was to now walk through Cullen’s office down into the towers and out through the barracks as planned. Even up here, being so high, he needn’t crouch down. He smiled at his success—the hard part was over. Though he had no blanket to shield from the cold, it felt damn good to have the stone underneath his feet, cooling them, even massaging them and aiding. He just missed being outdoors, able to walk on his own—let alone walking his damn self. Though he could feel the weight of his own body down within the soles of his feet—he could feel the involuntary slump of his shoulders, the aching of joints and tendons. He had been sicker than he thought. It was a good thing to have Bull so loving, really. And perhaps…even thinking about it now, he should have been more thankful to have a man like him. The Qunari was a good one, no doubt. And stuck to his promise of never hurting him, never letting him down with disappointment or making him feel lesser. And here I am…. not sticking to my own promise. He should have been in bed—and he was going to be. He was going to go straight back, march into his bed unannounced (and hopefully undetected) drink some more of the nasty yellow shit and go to bed—right after him and Cassandra had a real drink. 

He could hear footsteps in the distance behind him—frantic, charging footsteps, heavy ones as if they were coated in chainmail. The guards. He looked back to see what he had imagined, two to three of the men charging for him, the one in the middle pleading, “Inquisitor! Please! Come back!”  
Automatically, Lavellan ran—sprinted, down the stone path and towards the wooden door—how he was so close to freedom. He almost seemed to glide through air, he had never run so fast, his soles slapping hard now against the stone, the edges of it threatening to cut into his flesh. The cold air danced through the holes of his clothes now, through the small curls of his hair and rising goosebumps across his skin.  
Immediately, he looked back, staring at the guards and letting his body enter the room, not breaking eye contact with the guard for one moment before slamming the door and bracing himself against it, closing his eyes and letting himself melt to the floor. His bottom now resting against the bottom of it. He nearly had risen before there was banging on the door. The bangs violent enough to threaten the door from its hinges, the guard spoke aloud, his voice trembling.  
“Inquisitor…. Inquisitor, please. It is our sworn duty to protect you! Please open the door!” 

He opened his eyes to the sight of the bane of his existence. Fuuuck. The set-up of the room had been rather lovely; all of Cullen’s belongings had been organized and moved onto the shelves, all his paperwork on the floor neatly next to a closed inkwell and dried feather. The room had been dimly lit by the dozens of candles; there had been yellow and blue birthday hats on each of the guests, including the two men who stood in the center with a ‘Happy Birthday Stitches and Cullen!’ above their heads. There was not one pair of eyes not set on the scene. Lavellan could only stare back, numb to the feel of the still shaking door, how his back hit against it with a low thud. There had been cake; a yellow cake with blue frosted lacing, and Iron Bull, who stood beside the two birthday men, shook his head at the sight. 

“Inquisitor! Inquisitor! Please open the door!” 

The door continuously banging, Lavellan couldn’t make anything move. He wanted to run; he wanted to wish the two a Happy Birthday in a mere breath before running out of the door and hiding his face in embarrassment. He wanted to tell the guards behind the door to stop fucking banging on the door, but his mouth and face were frozen. He wanted to even let out a fart that had built-up in his stomach while running. But he just. Fucking. Couldn’t. When the banging finally came to a disastrous end, and there was no more storm to endure, finally Cullen spoke up. 

“Would…. you like some cake, Inquisitor?”  
“Happy Birthday.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I’ll…I’ll take a slice.”


	3. Chapter 3

By this time, there was no show. All the people watching were already used to Lavellan being carried, and so quietly, calmly, unimpressed, they watched him eating his cake shamefully over the Qunari’s shoulders, his own mouth blue and his hat slightly tinted. One mere cough had fill the void in which was the silence, and it echoed throughout of the room until the two were out of the main hall and back in Inquisitor’s quarters. Lavellan dropped his cake down onto the nightstand, let himself be eased onto the bed, and waited patiently for the cake to be handed back to him. Bull sighed simply, leaving the room to be silent. Before he could leave, the defeat so evident in his slumped shoulders, Lavellan spoke aloud.  
“I appreciate you.” When Bull stopped, he continued, holding onto the few moments he would have left. “I appreciate you, and everything that you do and have done. I’m proud of the fact that you have done nothing but stand by my side through the battles, through the missions, through the tribulations—through Orlais and back. I am proud of the fact that you feel so obligated to take care of me. I love you and I appreciate what you continue to do for me despite my not showing it.” 

“…Then why don’t you let me to take care of you, Boss?”  
“Because I…I…” 

He set the cake down and took a breath from out of his nose. “I don’t know how to allow that. I don’t know what it feels like to be taken care of and when it does happen, I don’t feel better I feel weaker. “  
“So it’s pride?”  
“Yeah…”  
“Kadan, there is nothing wrong with being weak at times. We can’t always be strong. It takes a real man to let himself be vulnerable, sometimes. Let me take care of you; let me mend you back to health as I’d know you’d do for me. Don’t you know how much I miss kicking ass with you?”  
“I... I know.”  
“Then what’s the problem?” When Lavellan didn’t answer, Bull continued. “Boss, I gotta tell you straight. You're not hurting me, you're hurting yourself. You were out of breath before you even opened the door all the way. I just want the best for you.”  
“It's so hard to stay indoors. I’m restless; lonely--”  
“-- I offered to stay with you--”  
“--But that's unfair to you. To be forced to stay with me and not have fun. What type of man would I be to make his boyfriend stay at home while he’s sick?”  
“Boss, obviously, it wouldn't be unfair if I offered.” 

Lavellan crossed his arms over his chest. “No, you have too much of a social life to just throw it out of the window.” 

“You could just get better and go out with me. The boys love having you around, Boss, you just have to get better.”  
Defeated, Lavellan sighed, “It's just so hard to stay put…I’m sorry for lying to you. I’ll stay in bed. I’ll stay here and…catch up on the sleep I missed.”  
“It’s really that hard, for you huh?”  
“Admittedly…” 

And like magic, he pressed his lips to Lavellan’s knuckles, awakening the nerves deep within him, beginning to stir him together, dopamine flourishing with the feeling of ecstasy running over him, he could feel his cock becoming hard.  
“Bull…”  
“It's hard to stay put, right? Well let me give you an incentive…”  
“I’m sick…”  
“Give me all of your germs, Boss. I want it. I’m willing to work for it…” 

His kisses were moments of fire; of lust and past pain, just like his fighting. Except only more tender, more loving and in need of response, how his mouth pressed harder and harder, and traveling from Lavellan's knuckles to his wrist to up his forearm and to his shoulder sent him into a trance. There was nothing better than his love; there was some natural tranquilizing element to the softness of his lips; how they parted ever so gracefully and connected, how they seemed so right just being against his. There was only one thing that Lavellan remembered when making love with Bull, being with him alone was the only thing that ran through his mind.  
Bull removed the locks which hid his Dalish lover’s neck, and began to kiss it gently, only for the kiss to turn gradually into love’s bite. His body jerked, Lavellan letting a gentle laugh escape from out of his peach mouth, hands digging into Bull’s shoulders.  
“All you have to yell out is Katoh…”  
“Even sick you can't make me think to say it……”  
“Wanna bet, kadan?”  
“You’re going to lose…”  
“Just seeing you undressed is a win for me…”  
Another bite, and Lavellan could already feel his erect cock rubbing against Bull. He smiled his dragon-like smile and whispered in a low growl, “Is that a valoh-kah in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” 

Lavellan whispered back, “Why don't you find out?” 

And oh, how Bull found out, hands running down the Inquisitor’s body, unbuttoning his pants and reaching inside of them, beginning to feel him, to embrace the erection which had been the cause of his love. 

“Kadan...you're rock hard…”  
“That's just what you do to me….” Lavellan shivered at the sensation, body stiffening and easing again. Bull held his body up, making sure to take peaks at his partner’s face, admiring the struggle to keep his moans held in.  
“Now wonder, you hold yourself back. You can let go, Kadan, it wouldn't be wrong.” 

Bull was just getting him roweled up now. He knew that if he really wanted to get a reaction he would only have to slow down the pace and tighten the grip, working repeatedly over the tip and down to his scrotum. He let his hands ease into the pace, slower and slower but harder and harder and then….

“Ahh fuck, Bull….” Came out in a shivering whisper, how his mouth trembled; how the breath escaped from his body. His head leaned back, his neck exposed out to Bull, his moans melodic and euphoric through the air now. Bull had swept him up into his arms, holding him close enough to where they can share their breath, but far enough to where Bull could still move his hand freely. And he didn't know if the Boss was aware of this or not, but his hips were grinding up, fucking into Bull's hand. It was so fucking hot to just observe. 

“The Asala Maraas-Lok--”  
“--Don't mention it, I’ll lose my boner…” 

This made Bull laugh, his laugh ringing through Lavellan's mind like a love spell, making him fall back in love with him again. The pink had spread out through his kadan’s face now, brightening up his complexion just a little. And this was the moment of bliss, the moment where nothing else mattered except for the galaxies they found in each other's eyes. The blissful moment where they came together, and felt each other's kiss, only hardening it more and more until one of them broke away from breath, and that usually began their love-making.  
Bull had placed his lover onto his back on the bed, his hands at his hips, holding him there as he opened his mouth and entered Lavellan’s cock into his mouth, the Dalish elf nothing against the inside of Bull’s hot mouth. Holy shit…He focused on the tip just how Lavellan liked, taking his cock into his left hand and stroking it as he eased himself down on Lavellan, cupping him into his mouth and pleasing like the professional he was. He hadn’t stopped until Lavellan could feel the sweetened and heated sensation of an orgasm, rushing through his body and making his body stiff for a moment before cooling and releasing tension. And though smaller, Lavellan’s libido was far bigger than the both possibly combined, not as if his partner’s wasn’t however. It was something he couldn’t help but think whether he got from Bull or not. He would like to think that he didn’t, but between the two of them, I think they both knew the truth. Bull’s sexual appetite was tastefully contagious. He practically jumped on his man, pressing his mouth against him with begging kisses, he pleaded. “I want to suck your dick, Bull…Please let me suck your dick…”  
This time, it was Bull, who broke away at once and commanded,” get on your knees, kadan…. get on your knees…” 

Lavellan did so obediently, so elegantly, making his way down to the floor and beginning to unbuckle Bull's pants, smiling proudly as he stated. “I’ve been practicing…” 

“Oh yeah? How many?”  
“My whole fist….”  
“You fucking liar…”  
“Watch…” 

Lavellan followed his hands, leaning down and opening his mouth, lips curved into the perfect ‘o’, mouth wide ready to accept all of Bull. He couldn’t help but admire his member; how pink it was at the top and how it had transcended into the slight purple of his skin. He pulled him out, smiling at the shaft before him, the slightly curved head, the pair of Qunari balls hung. Lavellan smiled, a curve on one of the ends of his most devilish smile. Oh...this would be easy…  
Don't misunderstand Lavellan, nor Bull for that manner. Bull wasn't at all different from what he had described. He was, as expected; very thick, very long, and something that he probably wouldn't be able to handle without safe practice. He wouldn't have been ready if he hadn't made himself so, usually using his hands and some very novice fire staffs. But damn if it wasn't so hard to make up a lie to tell Solas. 

“You look confident.”  
“I am.”  
“Good; confidence is key--” 

Bull froze, body tensed, one knee mid-air, the other firm on the ground, pinned by Lavellan’s hand, his mouth wrapped firmly around his tip, easing Bull’s head up into the back of his throat. 

“Oh…...fuck, Boss….” 

He was soon to be torn asunder; there was no space between Lavellan's throat and Bull’s tip, but he moved his mouth in wonders anyway, moving him from out of his mouth, then back down again, making sure to lick up all the spit which had trickled down to his scrotum and collected into a small puddle of saliva. Still with spit on his mouth and chin, Lavellan sat back, letting his bottom ease onto the back of his heels. 

“See? I told you…” 

Bull was the funniest person in bed; he actually looked hot there, sweat beginning to bead right below his horns. He had put himself into the most awkward positions. There, his shoulders were slumped with comfort, but his knees were locked, still out mid-air from when they first rose. Lavellan always knew when he was doing a good job.  
“Go on...practice some more….”  
“That sounded like a command.”  
“Only if you wanted it to be.”  
“Then yes sir…” 

Lavellan moved his hair to one side, opening his mouth again and nearly licking Bull into a coma. He started at the base near the scrotum, placing each of Bull’s balls into his mouth before running up through the shaft and up towards his head again. Entering him in his mouth again, he stuffed Iron Bull as deep as he could into his mouth, feeling Iron Bull’s hands upon his shoulders.  
“Ease up, kadan.... don’t push yourself…come here…” 

Bull pulled his boyfriend up onto his feet, kissing him hard enough to make Lavellan shiver, just enough pressure to bruise his lips and make his mouth numb. 

“I want to feel inside of you…” Bull muttered with the deepest of guttural growls, placing kisses along Lavellan’s neck. 

“Then by all means…” Lavellan breathed, crawling to the side of Bull, leaning down with his face rested upon his forearms, his ass up in the air and back bent perfectly like a crescent moon. He yelped, one of those glorious massive hands giving his ass a nice hard slap of a spanking, Lavellan's back curling before returning to their submissive position, nails digging into the sheets. Heat spread out through the impact of the slap, echoing throughout his body.

“Oh fuck yes. C’mon…” 

And another slap across his freckled skin, with another groan that escaped from deep within Lavellan. Oh, how his ass became vibrantly red when Bull had finished, pajama pants from off his ankles and down to the floor, shirt being guided off above his head into the floor and next to Bull’s patterned pants and harness. They had moved vertically on the bed; now where Bull could conveniently place his hands on the headboard like handles and plow as he pleased into his lover. Lavellan breathed slowly. 

“How are you holding up, Boss?”  
“I’m ready, Bull…”  
“Remember, just breathe easy, and just tell me if you want me to stop, or if I’m hurting you. Even if you're in the slightest bit of pain...now let's see if your hard work has actually paid off…” 

At first there was nothing but the soothing sensation of his head against Lavellan's hole, rubbing smoothly against the skin and making goosebumps break out all over his skin. Then =, ever so gently, there was the slow movement inside, how it accepted Bull’s tip and tightened with Lavellan’s trembling hands. They squeezed into fists, his back arched. 

“Goddamn…”  
Ah fuck, Bull...”

Bull held onto his hips, easing him up and down on his cock, grunts deep and guttural, his eyes rolling back, his mouth slack. Again, they grunted together, Bull letting out a hearty moan and chuckle. 

“Look at you, you did practice, didn’t you?”  
“It’s…. It’s so big…Ma vhenan, you’re so big…”  
“Look at how much of a big boy you are…” Bull exclaimed, thrusting his hips into Lavellan again. “At how much you can take…”

Lavellan swallowed hard, pressing his hands into the sheets, one of Bull’s hands wrapping around Lavellan’s cock, the other around a lock of his hair, pulling it back. Lavellan cried out. 

“Fuck...it” was barely a whisper. “Fuck...fuck...fuck…”  
“You can always say the safe word. Tap out.”

Lavellan smirked, eyebrows furrowed and his teeth sunken deep into the bottom lip. He hissed through his teeth at the sensation of Bull inside of him before speaking. 

“Do it harder…” Lavellan growled, Bull laughing once more. “Alright, Boss. Challenge accepted.” 

Bull held onto Lavellan’s shoulders, Lavellan grabbing the headboard and hissing, Bull slowly taking himself out and thrusting into him with a powerful might. Lavellan groaned, the whole bed shaking from its very frame, Lavellan’s knuckles turning white. 

“Fucking shit…”  
“That was kind of hard, kadan. Are you--”  
“--Do it again... “Lavellan growled lowly, Bull’s head tilting to the side ever so slightly. “Please, Bull...please do it again…” 

Bull returned to his place, biting into his lip as he watched his cock fill Lavellan, how he was swallowed up and pulled back out again, graceful and elegant. 

“Ugh, give it to me, Bull.” He whispered, voice breaking already, eyes rolled up towards the ceiling.  
“Kadan…” 

Bull, sighing throughout his nose, lost himself within the melodic sounds of his lover, starting to speed up the pace, starting to go deeper inside of him, his eyes focused on the target before him, Lavellan’s elongated grunts turning into quick whimpers of breath, hyperventilating, the blood rushing to his cheeks and face. Bull pushed his grasp from off the headboard, pinning his hands to the bed, replacing Lavellan’s hands with his own, ramming into Lavellan, making those hyperventilated breaths now into full blown screams of pleasure, how he squealed before letting out a satisfied laugh and moan, licking his lips and humming. 

“Kadan....” Bull began to pull himself from out of Lavellan. He placed a hand on his back, letting Lavellan turn around before showering him in kisses, picking him up from off the bed and holding him within his hold. He guided his hands around his horns, whispering silently to Lavellan.  
“Hold on tight, Boss…” Bull whispered, picking up his lower half and directing himself back into Lavellan, Lavellan smiling and groaning. 

“Oh yes, please...yes, yes, yes….” 

He leaned back, his hips shuffling deeper into Lavellan, making him yelp out in a long-winded gasp. 

“You’re not going to be able to feel your ass for a week…” He laughed, Lavellan smiling back and responding in his hoarse voice. 

“Then I really will be able to stay in bed... “Before they could laugh, Bull thrusted upwards again, Lavellan freezing and closing his eyes shut, holding onto Bull, using him as leverage against the force of his hips. Lavellan sighed through his nose, their bodies burning. 

They finished with Lavellan, as the barmaids had nicknamed it before him, riding the bull. Lavellan, learning from the best of Orlesian bards to polish the roll of his hips, had both of his palms against the breast of his lover, letting his body weight really hold him against Bull as he worked up and down Bull’s shaft, Bull left asunder under him, a hand rolling down his face before covering his mouth and over his heart. 

“You do it so well, kadan…”  
“Only for you, Bull…” 

Bull and Lavellan had melted into each other’s kiss before Lavellan broke it this time, his kiss smearing as he climbed up to say, “Shit...I’m going to…”  
“Then come, Boss…” Lavellan had laid down on Bull’s chest, Bull with his arms wrapped around his torso. “Come...fucking come Boss…I’ll finish too, with you kadan. No one but you…”  
“No one but you...” 

It was perfect; a moment in unison together in nothing but uninterrupted climax, a moment of love between the two, how they embraced, how they fell asleep together. 

 

<


	4. Conclusion

Conclusion:

 

“Here goes another glass, Boss. Drink up.” 

 

He held Lavellan’s back, rubbing it as he choked it down once more. Lavellan had stood, holding on to the edge of his desk to help him against the fight the Asala Maraas-Lok fought, how the strength had recollected into his body again. He finished the glass, wiping the excess from around his mouth before placing his arms behind his back and waiting for Varric to speak by the window. 

“Any news, Varric?” 

“The Venatori have taken most of the shit we need to track down this Charrias guy.” Varric crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall simply.

“Charrias will most likely be hiding out within the Exalted Plains, but of course we cannot be sure of that until...go to the Western Approach. Start tracking down the records there, and move out to the Exalted Plains when ready. When Charrias is found, he will be apprehended but not murdered. The Inquisition will try him before the court immediately when you return…”  
“Aye-aye Captain…” Varric kicked himself from off the wall, Bianca glistening in the light as he turned around and headed down the stairs, Iron Bull coming up the stairs now and nodding simply to Varric before speaking. “I’ll be down there in just a second, Tell the princess to make sure he has all of his shit ready for the road.” 

“I’m not sure Dorian will ever be ready.” Varric grunted, closing the door behind him, the bluish-yellow fade of dawn just broken through the window, out onto Lavellan’s face. Bull crept up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist smoothly before leaving pecks along his skin. Lavellan turned to share their kiss, holding his face as he tasted the slight alcohol from off Bull’s lips. 

“Me, Varric and Dorian are going to figure this Venatori shit out, Boss... stay in bed for me, won’t you?”

“I’ll be in the same place you left me.” 

“Good.”  
“Be safe, Bull…”  
“Go back to bed, kadan.” 

They kissed once more before Lavellan obediently returned to the comfort of his bed, letting the thought of Bull rock him into a much-needed sleep. This might have been a good thing after all.


End file.
